


Sense, Sensibility & Seduction

by ToxicNebulae



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Pride and Prejudice - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Multitasking, Reading, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicNebulae/pseuds/ToxicNebulae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie's just trying to read, but Darcy has other ideas...<br/>Because there is not NEARLY enough smut in this fandom.</p><p>(this is my first-ever fanfiction story, so concrit is encouraged. <3 )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense, Sensibility & Seduction

William Darcy unlocks the door to the spacious San Francisco apartment he's sharing with his girlfriend, Lizzie Bennet (who, predictably, insisted upon paying for half of the rent). He slips inside, neatly placing his shoes on the boot bench and hanging up his coat, skirting the mess that Lizzie made with her belongings when she got back from work. In the past, that might have bothered him, but now it just brings a wry smile to his lips.  
He tries to be quiet walking towards the master bedroom-- he's gotten back from a meeting rather late, and Lizzie occasionally goes to bed early. Perhaps he'll join her tonight.  
What he sees when he silently opens the door, however, pushes all thoughts of sleep from his mind.  
Lizzie is sprawled out on her stomach with her feet at the head of the bed, reading _Sense and Sensibility_ propped up on her elbows. She's wearing her favourite nightgown for summer-- a deep red, lacey, nearly transparent number that she swears is the most comfortable she's ever had. She's kicking her feet in the air absently as she reads, the movement causing the fabric to shift over her milky white thighs. She's working the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth like she always does when she's concentrating on something. She hasn't noticed him yet-- she turns a page and continues reading. William watches her for a while, transfixed, but then her face contorts into a smirk at something witty that Jane Austen must have written, and he's done for.  
He creeps over to her sanctuary, tracing his fingers lightly over the back of her right calf. The sound of a quick intake of breath informs William that she's become aware of him, but she continues reading diligently. He smiles impishly; so they're going to play it _that_ way.  
He continues ghosting his hand up to her thigh, across the lacey hem of her nightdress, and down along her other leg. His fingers trip lightly from one ankle to another, and he increases the pressure slightly on his next journey up to her thigh. The next time he completes the circuit, he presses his fingers just above the edge of her gown, brushing against her black lace panties.  
At this point, Lizzie's reading comprehension leaves a bit to be desired, but she seems determined to read, for the third time, the story of the Dashwood family. _Alright then,_ thinks William mischievously, _it's time to redouble my efforts._ He traces the shape of Lizzie's hips and waist through the fabric, then returns to her thighs to slip under the hem and repeat the action. This time, on the way down, he latches onto the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls them down her legs. Her breath hitches, but she turns another page, trying to seem unaffected.  
Pressing kisses up the pale expanse of her leg, William again glides his hands under her nightgown, searching between her thighs... He smirks, triumphant, at the proof that Lizzie isn't nearly as oblivious to his attentions as she's pretending to be. Feeling especially devious, he decides to up the stakes yet again.  
"Would you care to read aloud, love?" He murmurs.  
"...Hnnng?" Lizzie grunts, confused. These are the first words he's spoken to her since she left this morning, and she wasn't exactly focusing...  
"I haven't read that book in a while," he continues, undaunted. "Perhaps you could read some of it to me?"  
Lizzie purses her lips, trying to bite back a moan as he slips a finger inside her. _He knows exactly what he's doing, the bastard._  
Still, Lizzie's courage always rises at any attempt to intimidate her, and she's not going to give in so easily.  
"Mama, the more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much!"  
William frowns. Of all the places to begin reading, she chose _there_? Such impudence must be punished.  
He adds a second finger to the first and reaches his other arm around her torso to toy with her breasts.  
She tries to disguise her gasp by hurrying into the next sentence: "He must have all Edward's virtues, and his person and manners must ornament his goodness with every possible charm."  
"Hm," William says noncommittally, pulling her up to rest on all fours and climbing onto the bed behind her.  
"R....remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. It is yet-- yet too early in life to d.... despair of such an... oh... such a happiness."  
Extricating his arm from around Lizzie, he works at his belt buckle one-handed. "Go on," he prompts.  
"Uh... Why should you be less fortunate than your mother?" She rushes out in one breath.  
"Why indeed," he mutters, freeing himself from his trousers and removing his fingers.  
Lizzie takes advantage of his momentary absence to attempt to get the next sentence out without stuttering: "In one circumstance only, my Marianne, may your destiny be different from HERS!"  
She all but screams out the last word of the sentence as William finally pushes inside of her. In a last-ditch effort to maintain her dignity, she turns the page and begins struggling through the next chapter.  
"'W....what a pity it is, Elinor",... said Marianne,.... "that Edward should have no--no t-taste for draw...ing."  
"A pity indeed," he agrees, picking up his pace.  
"'No... no taste for drawing," replied... Elinor; "why should you... t-think so?'"  
He pushes himself deeper, pulling her hips back into his, and Lizzie forgets what she's supposed to be doing for a few seconds. "He... he does not draw himself, indeed..." she gasps out, remembering, "but he has great... ungh... great PLEASURE..."  
William, seeing that neither of them were going to last long at this rate, had reached a hand around her hips to work at her clit, and just like that, the existence of such a character as Marianne Dashwood was altogether forgotten. She's making little noises and pushing back against him, and neither of them notice when the book falls off the foot of the bed.  
She's tensing up, the pleasure at her centre rising to a fever pitch, when William bites her shoulder and sends her over the edge. She's moaning, contracting, gripped by what must be the most long-lived orgasm she's ever experienced. The clenching of her inner walls pulls him into ecstasy after her, and he muffles his cries against her skin.  
They collapse, breathing heavily, and it's a few minutes before Lizzie regains enough presence of mind to quip, "Jane Austen would be appalled."  
William chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Don't worry, I won't tell her."


End file.
